


Black Mesa's Questionnaire

by Biopenta_25



Category: Half-Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27995691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biopenta_25/pseuds/Biopenta_25
Summary: Shotout to my friends for beta reading this, and also to my girlfriend for helping me with the wording and throwing a few ideas here and there. Thank you all very much! I hope you enjoy.
Relationships: Bubby & Dr. Coomer (Half-Life)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Black Mesa's Questionnaire

**Author's Note:**

> Shotout to my friends for beta reading this, and also to my girlfriend for helping me with the wording and throwing a few ideas here and there. Thank you all very much! I hope you enjoy.

It had been well over a week since someone had entered the god-forsaken room. The glass that keeps experiment #3321 prisoner felt colder every damn hour that passes…or…day? Who knows. Who cares.

Time doesn’t matter to him, and neither do whatever stupid terms the scientists in charge try to drill onto him. #3321 had decided to stop cooperating a LONG time ago, and besides the lack of new tests, no other drastic changes had taken place. After all the torturous experiments, he didn’t give a damn about contributing to the wonders of science. If the scientists that made him thought he’d be easy to handle, they were pretty fucking stupid. Over his perfect dead body. He would rather be—

Suddenly, a loud mechanic sound broke the silence that plagued the room. A door slowly opened and #3321 distinguished two figures that contrasted against the dim light coming from outside.

“Well, here it is.” one of the figures spoke. “Once you’re done asking questions, go back to Sector C. Be careful,” it continued, speaking to the shorter figure. ”Last guy that came in here got his teeth kicked in”

Oh yeah, fun times. #3321 was just beginning to relish that memory when the taller figure closed the door behind them and said“Good luck, professor” 

The shorter figure stepped in closer, looking down at his clipboard. “It’s doctor.” He muttered to himself.

As the shorter figure stepped towards the tube, #3321 was able to make out some details about him. His hair was a little longer than the other scientist’s, and it was a dark brown too. He also had a mustache, which was definitely new. If it wasn’t for the red tie and lab coat he wore he could be easily mistaken for some musician or artist, nothing about him screamed “professional tube clone handler”.

After a few minutes of looking around the room, Mustache Scientist picked up a chair from the corner of the room and propped it in front of #3321’s tube.  
“Well, let’s get on with it.” Mustache said as he sat down. “Hello! My name is Harold and I am here to interview you. It’s nice to meet you!” He sounded chipper. Way too chipper. Harold was quick to put on his façade wasn’t he, there was no way anyone could be that happy naturally… well, he could be some kind of weird freak.

By #3321’s standards, excitement should be the last thing Harold should be feeling right now, especially given the place he’s in. He’s talking to a man being kept alive in a tube, god damn it, not to some toddler in kindergarten. The last thing he heard about #3321 is that he kicked someone in the mouth. Harold should be scared of him.

“ I have nothing to tell you. ” #3321 stated.

“As a matter of fact you do! My higher ups need the answers to these questions.”

Yeah right. Why is he even in here? What the hell is going on? Nobody checks on him for weeks even and NOW this stupid hippie comes in here and interrogates him? 

“I don’t mean to sound rude but I do bel-“

“Why!?” #3321 cut him off.

“Why what?” Harold replied with a puzzled look that pissed off the prototype.

“Why did your precious higher ups send YOU instead of holding me at gunpoint and asking those stupid questions themselves, Harold!?”  
He felt the tubes attached to his back tense up and hold him back. 

Harold, reasonably, did not answer his question until a few seconds had passed. Then, his facial expression changed from slightly alarmed to a little, embarrassed? It’s hard to tell.

He took a deep breath, “Well... you see, you’re Black Mesa’s most successful experiment yet… and even though I am not an expert on this field, you’ve piqued my interest.”

Ah, well that was… something that made a little sense. Although flattered, #3321 was not going to lower his guard.

“So what? You volunteered to come down here?”

“You could say that.” Harold said as he pulled out a thin black hair tie out of his pocket.

“Yeah… sure” #3321 said as he crossed his arms.  
He analyzed the situation a little, Harold seemed like a somewhat cooperative scientist up to now, not even all that threatening. Black Mesa scientists were not to be trusted, but this was different and 3321 couldn’t wait to take advantage of that.

“So? Aren’t you gonna ask me anything?”

“Ah! Yes, I am!” Harold exclaimed. He had tied his hair into a small ponytail, and he looked a little more… professional.

“Let’s begin. What is your first name?”

“You already know that. My name is #3321”

“No! I mean your actual name, not the experiment’s”

He probably meant a ‘legal name’ but this experiment was not particularly legal. Legal names were often given at birth, going by what 3321 had been told. But he hadn’t been born. He had been made. No one gave him a name, and it never was necessary. “I don’t have one. I don’t need one.”

“Do you want one? We could come up with one for you.” Harold offered.

#3321 thought about it.. Reeeally thought about it. Harold was surprisingly patient with him. Maybe, just maybe, he could go along with it, earn this guy’s trust, and he could be out of Black Mesa in no time.

“…Sure” he says

“Good!” Harold said as he wrote on his clipboard “I’ll just name a few and you’ll choose from there, how about Eric?”

“No.”

“That’s a no on Eric, then…” Harold stood up and began to look around the room, while he kept talking to the subject “Daniel?” 

“No.”

Harold approached the desk that had belonged to the man that got his teeth kicked in. A flower had been rotting in a pot since his last visit. “Matthew?”

“What? No.” 

Harold picked up a cup that had been lying around and approached the sink “Connor?” 

“Hell no”

Harold watered the plant and sat in front of the tube again.  
“What a shame, Connor would suit you just fine”

#3321 had begun to think he hadn’t heard a lot of names before. All of these sounded like bullshit, he must’ve been suggesting all the bad ones on purpose. 

“I’ll leave that one blank for now then… Well, the next question is, uh… What is your favorite color?”

“What? Is that actually one of the questions you’re supposed to ask me?”

“Nope!”

#3321 snorts, and then immediately regrets it. “I see” he clears his throat. His eyes went around the room for an easy answer, stopping at Harold’s tie. “Red is a nice color” In all honesty, #3321 wasn’t particularly fond of any color, but red at least was decent.

“I’ll keep it in mind”

Nice. He’ll keep it in mind. That makes him smile a little. That’s a positive. As annoying as Harold might seem, he’s actually friendly. Wait no. What. It’s only been like 20 minutes since he walked in. #3321 should not be fond of this scientist, or any scientist. Not even a little. Whatever. 

“Well, the next question is… What happens to be your earliest memory?”

Ok, that was definitely a real question. Finally. Maybe Harold’s higher ups were trying to figure out the moment he became self aware to start killing their prototypes at that phase. Or maybe he just wanted to know. 

“Well… my earliest memory” he began, as he tried to recall as best as he could. 

It was pitch black outside of the tube. His first tube before he knew what he was or where he was. He looked around, and after pressing his face to the glass, he made out other tubes with dimmer lights.. Something moved inside of them. He squinted and saw the prototypes. The failed ones, the ones with too many limbs, with too many teeth, the ones whose faces rotted away and those that lacked mouths but still screamed with all their might. At the time, 3321 didn’t know what they were, but they were all that existed as far as he knew.

They really fucked up with those prototypes. Thinking about them made #3321 squirm.

“Nobody came in for a while. When they found I was alive, they gave me this.” 3321 knocks the glass, and thinks about how it’s the worst and only present he’s ever gotten.

That wasn’t fun. Another thing that wasn’t fun was all those experiments they did on him right after. Now they barely even test on him, and all he was good for was sulking on his stupid little room about how much every fucking scientist in this facility hates him and how much he hates them.

#3321 stopped staring at the far end of the room and turned to the scientist. He wasn’t looking, but his expression showed concern. Genuine concern. His eyebrows were drawn together and he was lightly hugging his clipboard. Other scientists rarely showed any emotion while checking on #3321, but Harold hadn’t even tried to hide how he felt. #3321 sighed and decided it was better to change the subject, for both their sakes.

“Hey Harold, mind if I ask you a few questions?” he asked, leaning against the glass.

Harold’s facial expression relaxed a little, and then he politely smiled. “Sure… ask away.”

“How long have you been working here? And what “field” are you in?”

Harold paused briefly and answered “Well I’ve been working here for a couple of months; I’m a little new to the building. I’m in the computer science department.”

“Oh. I see. Good to know.” The prototype answered, wondering what a computer scientist had to do with an artificially created creature like him. 

An awkward silence filled the room until Harold commented on the obvious: “You’re probably wondering why I’m here, aren’t you?”

Finally, 3321 thought. “Yes, I’ve been for a while” He said. Harold sat up straight and began to explain.

“As you might have guessed, the purpose of the questions I have been given is, uh… I can’t remember the word…”

“Research?” 

“Yes! Research. This… experiment is of very high interest, and I am here to get as much information as possible. Unlike the other clones, you are able to put your thoughts into words and you seem to have coherent thoughts.” Harold continued, as #3321 fought to avoid rolling his eyes. Of course he was capable of coherent thought. He was the perfect scientist. “Black Mesa doesn’t know a lot about you. But if you help me, they could start seeing you as a person rather than as an experiment.”

Harold adjusted his tie and got a little closer to the glass. “I know they haven’t treated you very well here, but I seriously think that this might be a good idea. If you’re cooperative, then I promise I’ll try my best to convince those scientists to be more… humane.”

#3321 paused. This could be good for him. “I will cooperate, but if you fuck up I’ll never talk again. Deal?” 

“Deal!” Harold appeared to completely ignore the first part of the sentence. “If we work together then I’m sure we’ll both get something good out of this”

“Good” #3321 replied.

“Well, there are more questions that they want me to ask you” Harold picked up his clipboard, and skimmed through it “but I’d rather leave these for later, I don’t want to waste your time. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He stood up.

“Sure, I’ll see you then”

Harold put the chair where he found it, and stepped outside the room closing the door as he waved goodbye. “Finally” #3321 thought. Now he had time to go right back to his usual schedule, he had like a million things to do. Like sitting on the floor of his tube. And looking around the room. And counting the dots on his hospital gown. And being inside a tube.

He’ll have to remember to ask Harold to bring a deck of cards when he sees him again.


End file.
